


To Have and To Hold

by anythingbutplatonic



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: 7x07, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Missing Scene Fic, Olicity Reunion, The Slabside Redemption, episode coda, episode reaction fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-09-01 08:09:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16761286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anythingbutplatonic/pseuds/anythingbutplatonic
Summary: It's been six months and twelve days since she's seen him.It’s been five thousand, four hundred and sixty-eight hours since she’s really, really seen him.





	To Have and To Hold

It’s been six months and twelve days since she’s seen him.

It’s been five thousand, four hundred and sixty-eight hours since she’s really, really _seen_ him.

And now he’s here, limping towards her covered in blood, his clothes - the grey and white prison uniform, stamped with his prison number - dirty and torn, and she can see the exhaustion in his eyes well before he reaches her. 

It doesn’t feel real. 

Months of waiting, of anxious pacing of the floors in various WitSec houses, biting her nails late at night while silent tears streamed down her face, of hugging William - oh God, _William_ \- goodbye as she sent him to Cambridge and seeing the disappointment, the hurt on his young face, knowing that he was being left behind. Again. 

Months of nightmares, of dreams of things she thought would never be. Seeing him again, holding him, kissing him. 

Her Oliver.

And now he’s _here_.

Her chest seizing, she shakily walks out to meet him, hands curling and uncurling at her sides as more and more of him comes into view. The cuts and bruises on his face come into sharp relief; the blood caking one side of his face, matting in the beard he’d grown since going into prison, the soot and smoke and dirt greying his skin. The tiredness in his eyes, those gorgeous blue eyes that she would never get bored of looking into, the ones that were capable of shining bright like a pure cloudless sky and at the same time, harbouring a fire and fury in their depths that turned them the colour of a stormy sea. 

She wants to say something, _anything_ , to call his name, but her throat is too dry and her chest too tight to get the words out. 

So instead, she reaches for his face, cupping his cheek, still soft and warm as she remembers, and the feel of him under her fingertips is what sends her reeling, brings that relief, that _happiness_ , that overwhelming sense of joy as his eyes blink slowly closed and he sways into the touch. Her touch. 

His Felicity. Her Oliver, back again.

A sob reaching up into her throat, hot tears spilling out under her glasses, she kisses him, her husband, her hero, no matter what - she can taste the salt of sweat, the metal of blood, the ashy dry taste of soot and the charred texture of smoke, and underneath the smell and taste of her husband’s skin that’s so familiar to her, it’s like he never left.

Oliver’s arms come to wind around her waist, and she cries harder into the kiss, running her hands along every inch of him she can reach; his cheeks, his forehead and brow, his jaw, his neck, his shoulders, every part of him that’s accessible to her. 

“I missed you,” she cries into the skin of his throat, her fingers curling in the soft, minute hairs on the nape of his neck, stroking there in a nonsensical rhythm. “I thought you were never coming back.”

His grip tightens, his lips a soft press against her temple, the space under her ear, her jawline. Light as a feather, so gentle, always so gentle. “I’ll always come back,” he says, his voice rough and hoarse and full of the pain she knows he’s feeling in every inch of his body, but it’s like music to her ears. 

“To have and to hold,” she sniffs, the start of a smile appearing on her lips. Her finger absently rubs against her wedding band. She’d never felt right without it while in witness protection. 

It had felt as if part of her was missing - and it had been. 

She can’t see him, but Oliver’s eyes flutter closed once more. His whole body collapses into her, and he noses the back of her neck to breathe all of her in as he replies, quite simply, “Till death parts us.”


End file.
